


Me ne frego

by Vault_Emblem



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Camp, Edelgard is their manager, First Kiss, Getting Together, Glitter, Hubert and Jeritza are performers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sensuality, Trans Hubert von Vestra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23024956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_Emblem/pseuds/Vault_Emblem
Summary: When Hubert steps on the stage, he’s met by thundering applause.He looks at Jeritza, already on the stage and ready to play, and he smirks.It’s time to perform.
Relationships: Jeritza von Hrym/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Me ne frego

**Author's Note:**

> My italian ass still isn't over Sanremo, so have this thing inspired from something that happened there.  
> Anyways, stan Achille Lauro.
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr [@bi-naesala](https://bi-naesala.tumblr.com) and on twitter [@vault_emblem](https://twitter.com/vault_emblem)

Hubert is a methodical person and what he does, he does with precision and efficiency. This, of course, is valid also for his performances: everything has to be perfect, even at the cost of spending weeks planning – almost – everything, no matter how tiring that is.

Besides, Hubert doesn’t even need much sleep; he finds energy when he’s on stage, when he hears people’s cheers and gasps for the next controversial manoeuvre he pulls. That, actually, may be his favorite part of this all; he’ll always be grateful that Edelgard, his life companion and manager, is as eager as him to shake this society made up of old people with old values to bring new ideals and crush the system that binds them all.

He’s also lucky to have found someone willing to work with him – he doesn’t like saying “for him” because the creative process must be something shared by all parts or else it’s less effective – that shares a similar mindset.

Sure enough, Jeritza doesn’t look like someone he or Edelgard should get along with: he’s way too quiet, almost like he wants to vanish in the background rather than being at the center of attention, but he’s the best partner Hubert would ever hope to have the pleasure to work with. It’s not that he lacked revolutionary ideas, he just needed the right push to unload them to the world.

Despite their differences, their energies match each other perfectly. A perfect conundrum: Hubert’s the “intellectual one”, the one who talks during interviews, the one who comes with the lyrics, while Jeritza is “the composer”, the one who puts everything together in music, the one who accompanies Hubert with his guitar, the one whose presence gives Hubert calm.

It does help that Jeritza is, among other things, exceptionally pretty, so much that sometimes Hubert chooses what to make him wear to their next appearance only based on the question whether he’ll manage to pull it off or not. As of now, he never disappointed.

Hubert stares at himself in the mirror one last time. And to think that he used to _dread_ these moments.

Now look at him, out in the open without an ounce of shame.

He decided to go for a classic, that night: there are already many jokes made over the fact that they are actually vampires, so might as well lean into that, but of course not without adding their own twist to it.

Jeritza looks more like a classic vampire sans the cape. It was Edelgard’s idea to cover his open chest with glitter; “it’ll draw more attention to it,” she said, and she’s right. The only problem at that it also draws Hubert’s attention. What can he says, he’s a sucker for the classic vampire outfit: it may be simple, but open white shirt and high waist pants are an excellent fit.

Right, Hubert’s supposed to check his _own_ outfit, not Jeritza’s.

Opposite to his companion, his cape is _huge_ and _long_ , of black velvet and golden embroideries. It doesn’t matter that it will be hard performing in it because he’ll actually keep it only for a short amount of time: as soon as the song will start, he will take it off for dramatic effect.

He isn’t completely naked underneath, but it’s close: the shirt is wearing, open and similar to Jeritza, is actually black and not only that, but it’s also entirely transparent, showing off Hubert’s thin body – excessively so some may say – and chest scars. He also gets to show off his arms and hands tattoos like this, these purple veins and black clouds, like some sort of spell gone bad has cursed his hands; it may be gross for some, but Hubert likes it: it’s part of his image.

He sighs at the image of his blind eye staring blankly at his reflection. With his hair slicked back, it’s completely visible.

Everybody knew about his eye, but he began to show it to the world – instead of covering it behind his bangs – only recently. He can’t deny being nervous when he first did this, but both Edelgard and Jeritza have been very supporting, as well as his fans, which filled him with relief.

Still, a bit of nervousness still lingers.

\- Need help? -.

Hubert turns and he sees Jeritza leaning over him with his usual neutral expression. Thanks to his heels, Hubert is slightly taller than him – he tried to make him wear them as well, but it didn’t end well – and he knows he shouldn’t, but he really likes basking in the fact that, even if just for a while, he’s the tallest one of the two. Not that there’s such a big difference between the two, but Hubert’s been so used to be the tallest one in all his life that meeting Jeritza has been a bit destabilizing for him.

“Now you know how I feel”, Edelgard told him once, chuckling at how “dramatic” he was being about it. As if he’d ever be dramatic about anything.

Hubert knows he should respond quickly, but he can’t tear his eyes from Jeritza’s face, observing how good he looks with that red eye shadow and black lipstick. What he’d give to have that lipstick smeared over his lips, or maybe even on his neck, shoulders, and who knows where else…

\- Hubert? -.

Right. Professionalism.

\- I-I’m good -, Hubert manages to recover, going back to look at himself because if he keeps staring at Jeritza, he might do something very _unprofessional_ , - Was just checking out how the makeup turned out -.

\- Looks good to me -.

Hubert turns again to look at Jeritza after hearing those words, searching for a sign, something different in his expression, but nothing. Well, at least he can appreciate his honesty.

\- Thank y… -.

\- Wait -.

It happens before Hubert’s brain can register it: with one hand, Jeritza’s keeping his face still, while with the other he begins to rub at the angle of his mouth.

Unfortunately, it lasts less than anticipated, and Jeritza soon pulls away.

\- You had a smudge -, he explains, as if he’d ever need an excuse to touch Hubert’s face.

\- Oh -, the other says, rather eloquently.

These are the last words they exchange before stepping on sage.

When they’re on stage, things change. Hubert has made his point to always be honest with himself and his fans, so he acts the same way he always does on stage, but Jeritza, Jeritza is a much different person when he plays: nothing remains of the reserved man and Jeritza becomes energetic, aggressive, very aggressive.

It’s never dangerous, but there’s something primarily seductive in the way Jeritza presses again him, looking at him with such an intense stare that Hubert almost cowers – something he’d never do for nobody. He’s a bomb, ready to go off at any time, and Hubert _loves_ it.

It may not be wise, but he loves to rile Jeritza up to see what will happen next, may it be via grinding against him while he sings, holding his face in place with one hand, getting so close that he can feel his breath hot against him… the list goes on and on.

Nothing major has ever blown up, so Hubert has no intentions of stopping. Still, he can’t help but to ask himself where this game of escalation will take them.

Thinking like this is dangerous, he’s come to find out: he gets expectations like this, expectations that will be disappointed because no matter what happens, it all happens on stage. Fans love it of course, but that’s it; once they’re out the public eye, they get back to what they used to be. Usually they don’t even talk about it.

What stops them from doing so? Are they afraid of something? They’re professionals: nothing would change from this… unless there’s something more behind it…

When Hubert steps on the stage, he’s met by thundering applause.

He looks at Jeritza, already on the stage and ready to play, and he smirks.

It’s time to perform.

He decides to wait before getting rid of his cape, at least for one song. Even considering how much harder it is to perform with it on, he knows it’s best this way: he’ll get people to get used to this look, only to surprised them with a sudden reveal.

He does feel Jeritza’s eyes on him for the entire time; at first it’s an interrogative gaze – wasn’t he supposed to undress immediately? – but then he seems to understand what Hubert wants to pull.

Some may say that they’re unorganized, but they’d both disagree.

First of all, they are always on the same wavelength when it comes to performing. When one comes out with something during their time on the stage, it doesn’t take long for the other to follow suit.

Even with all the rehearsals beforehand, they’ll always come up with something new on the spot; they’ll see what to do based on how they feel in that particular moment and on how the crowd is acting that day.

The reason why their art is different from the others, Hubert thinks, lays exactly in this: they’re most spontaneous on the stage, doing whatever their whims desire.

Nothing can compare.

This of course means that, sometimes, they manage to surprise each other.

It happens, when they don’t plan much ahead, but it’s usually a pleasure to see what the other will pull. Besides, it doesn’t take the other much time to follow suit – they are good improvisers after all.

This time around, it’s Jeritza’s turn to surprise Hubert.

At first, Hubert didn’t find anything suspicious about the way Jeritza began to circle around him. It’s a thing that they often do; besides, what’s the point of having a stage if you don’t use every part of it?

What he wasn’t expecting however is that, right at the beginning of the second song, Jeritza gets right behind him, forcefully ripping the cape off of him when Hubert was just a few seconds from taking it off himself.

Gasps can be heard from all around them, and then applause, which manage to bring Hubert back to reality after a moment of surprise. Sure, he’s aware of how aggressive Jeritza gets on stage, but it never came to this.

Still, he can’t deny a certain sparkle of excitement at what he just did. Oh, if only they were alone…

He hears Jeritza softly gasp when Hubert, not even looking away, just stretches an arm behind, locking Jeritza in place by his neck as the other gets back to play.

The way he can feel Jeritza’s hot breath on his neck almost distracts him by how uncomfortable that position is; since Jeritza still has to play, he can’t press his body against him as much as he’d want to – which is completely, of course – so he keeps his back arched to give him space to fiddle with his guitar.

It’s almost spine wrecking, but it wouldn’t be the first time Hubert makes sacrifices in the name of art.

They must look so good in this pose.

He hopes people are taking pictures.

When the moments to leave that position comes… Hubert almost doesn’t want to do it.

Alas, he must: not only it would kill his back to keep staying like that, but it would also make for a boring show if they don’t move around.

He’s about to distance himself when he feels teeth sinking in his flesh, under his neck.

His voice almost breaks, but Hubert manages to break focus as he keeps singing, trying not to think about the fact that Jeritza just _bit_ him.

It last only for a sweet – _sweet_ – moment, then Jeritza pull away, and Hubert jokingly pushes him; that’s another thing he likes to do, pushing Jeritza around. It’s still baffling how, even in his stage persona, he lets Hubert do this to him.

There have been voices – of course there are always voices – that it’s because he likes it, that this is some sort of “erotic play”, which isn’t that far off from reality, but it would be true only in part. Hubert wishes it’d be wholly true.

The performance goes on, and they both have cooled off a bit after their explosive start.

It’s fair: it would be hard to keep escalating things like this. Both of them and the audience need some moments of pause.

Besides, it would be tone deaf to keep this charade up during their more sober songs. That would just not fit.

Even Jeritza gets more subdued, lowering his gaze, focusing entirely on delivering the most heart wrenching solo, and Hubert can’t look away, enthralled as much as the audience. No matter how many times he’s already seen this, every time feels like the first.

If only he was brave enough to walk past the line between professionalism and attraction. If only he could do something about it.

Soon it’s time to get back to more light-hearted songs, and things go back to normal.

What’s truer to the human experience than mood whiplashes? This is what they want to convey: they want to be able to convey the entire human experience during their concerts, with the highs and lows that everyone experiences.

This isn’t what Hubert’s thinking about however, not at all.

He wants to do something, he wants to one-up Jeritza. He won’t stand for the cape removal being the highlight of the night.

He gets an idea halfway during the concert, and he smirks. This is going to be good.

He waits until they’re one in front of the other. They’re so close already that he can _feel_ the fans’ cries of joy and excitement; they’re all in for a nice surprise, however.

He doesn’t even stop singing, nor he stops looking right in Jeritza’s eyes as he slowly – seductively, he likes to believe – kneels down, knees on the hard surface of the stage, with one hand that reaches for Jeritza’s shirt, holding it tightly not to let the other get away – not that he seems to actually want to leave.

Jeritza’s gaze is _hungry_ , locked on Hubert. He looks like he’s barely holding himself from completely devouring him.

This is exactly what Hubert wanted: he _knows_ what this looks like, especially considering that, like this, his face is at the same exact height as Jeritza’s pelvis. He makes sure to angle the microphone right so that nobody would have any doubt anymore about what he’s trying to convey.

He can barely feel the crowd, focused entirely on Jeritza’s reaction.

He gets bolder, and he begins to move the hand that was holding Jeritza’s shirt on his naked chest.

… He doesn’t think he ever touched him so closely.

He can feel the rippling muscles under his touch, and he shivers – hoping that nobody saw it. Jeritza’s hot, too hot, but Hubert’s drawn to him nonetheless; he’d rub his face between his pecs if he wasn’t supposed to sing. Besides, glitter is hell to remove and he’d rather put it nowhere near his face, though no matter what, he’ll always get some on it.

Jeritza lowers his head, but Hubert doesn’t move away. Actually, he raises his hand, meeting Jeritza’s lips halfway, but it’s not all: Jeritza parts his lips, and soon Hubert feels the wet sensation of a tongue licking his fingers.

He doesn’t know how to feel about it – saliva is sticky and he doesn’t like that – but in the moment he doesn’t even think about it. Jeritza has just licked his hand in front of hundreds of people.

This has to be their best night.

Two hours pass with an incredible speed, and they’re at the closing song, a hymn about being yourself, about not caring about what society thinks, about identity, maybe even about love. Who cares, let’s live.

This part, they have rehearsed: like any closing act, if they screw this up, they screw up their entire performance.

At every step Hubert and Jeritza move around each other, the tension grows, as it always does.

Thinking about it, it’s pretty sad how all this will deflate once they get back to their dressing rooms. There will be a wall between them again; no matter how many times it crumbles during their shows, it will always come back.

How hypocritical of him. He sings about liberty and identity, when he doesn’t even have the courage to be honest with himself.

What is stopping him, if not the fear of rejection?

He never felt like risking destroying everything he and Jeritza have worked to build because of his stupid feelings was worth it, but he’s grown tired of this game: as much as he enjoys this, the knowledge that this is all staged tastes bittersweet in his mouth, and Hubert can feel bile rising up at the sole thought of it.

Why shouldn’t he try it?

If anything goes wrong, he can always pretend it was for the show.

Every bit of hesitation evaporates as soon as Hubert’s eyes fall on Jeritza again.

They’re close, so close, and it would take nothing to take his face with one hand and draw him closer and kiss him and… wait that’s exactly what he’s doing.

For a moment everything stops, at least for Hubert; Jeritza is still playing his guitar, but he doesn’t move away from the kiss, and actually presses against the other with the same fervour.

The crowd’s gone wild by this point, but that’s the last thing the two care about at the moment.

It’s so easy…

For some reasons, Hubert thought it would’ve been harder.

Eh, looks like he only needed to build up the courage after all.

It’s when he feels Jeritza’s tongue pushing against his lips that he remembers where they are and what they’re doing.

It’s with a heavy heart that Hubert has to pull away; as much as he thinks his audience would like if the rest of the show is just he and Jeritza making out, some things should be left private. Besides, what artists would they be if they don’t finish their song?

He gets back to singing, and he can’t help but to smile to himself despite everything.

He looks at Jeritza, and he’s smiling too. It’s not a smirk, but a true smile.

Does this mean that he’s happy about this? Hubert can only hope on. As for him, he feels so much joy inside that he might explode at a moment’s notice.

He should’ve predicted that, in the end, the repercussions weren’t going to be that bad, but what can he say, his trying to be realistic soon translated into going full pessimist mode.

They finish the song and they step closer, bowing to the cheering crowd.

Hubert thanks them from the bottom of his heart for coming to see them. It’s partly courtesy and partly true: they wouldn’t be nowhere near as famous if they didn’t have such amazing fanbase; sure, there are plenty of crazed fans, but that just adds color he supposes. Still, without their support they wouldn’t be able to pursue their passion and share their message, so Hubert’s not lying when he says that he’s thankful for every single person that came that day.

And thus ends another successful show; they gave their all and it turned out great.

They have all the reason to be proud of themselves.

As they get backstage, the tension gradually diminishes. It’s not like the atmosphere has gotten cold, but it definitely isn’t as electric as it was before.

They’re met by the staff, who congratulates them on their success, then by Edelgard, who congratulates them all the same, but she actually means it. For being so tiny, she’s incredible strong, demonstrated by how easily she closes her arms around both Hubert and Jeritza and manages to raise them up in the air like they weight nothing – in Hubert’s case, that may as well be the case, but it’s definitely not true for Jeritza.

\- You really did it this time -, she says.

She could be talking about the show, but Hubert knows this is mostly directed at him: he might’ve annoyed her more than once about his feelings for Jeritza. Well, he didn’t really _annoy_ her, she just got irritated at the fact that he was obviously pining – her words, not his – about someone so close and easy to reach, and he was doing nothing about it.

He’ll have to thank her in private for putting up with him until now, and possibly still putting up with him in future.

\- That’s enough hugging for now, go change clothes -, she says them, finally putting them back on the ground.

\- It won’t take too long -, Hubert replies, but he actually has no idea if what he said is true.

Won’t he and Jeritza have to talk? They should, after what happened. Hubert could easily brush it off, but Jeritza’s reaction at his gesture was unexpectedly positive, so maybe there’s a chance…

He shakes his head, almost fumbling in his steps. Focus, Hubert. _Focus._

He looks up and all he sees is Jeritza’s back as he leads the way to their changing room.

He wonders what he’s thinking about. Is his mind replaying their kiss over and over again like Hubert’s is? He hopes so; he wants him too: he wants him to crave that contact, to want to taste his lips again. Whatever he asks, Hubert will readily give it to him.

He touches his lips and he swears, for a moment he can still feel Jeritza’s taste, but that’s only his imagination playing tricks on him.

Ugh, as much as he loves dressing up like this, he can’t wait to get into something more comfortable.

He doesn’t get the chance to.

As soon as they get inside, in fact, Jeritza closes the door, trapping Hubert against it.

He wants to ask him what he wants to do, what he feels, but Jeritza doesn’t let him, pressing his lips against his with a violence similar to the one from their show.

And what can Hubert do, if not melt into it? It’s so easy to go boneless, let Jeritza hold him – he’s touching his hips, his hands are touching him – and kiss him and grind against him and god this is perfect.

He manages to put his arms around Jeritza’s neck, holding him there with desperate strength.

_Don’t stop. Never stop._

Damn it, Jeritza is so addictive. Now that Hubert got a taste, he’ll ever get enough of it.

The sweetest kind of drug.

When they pull away, they’re both a mess.

This time, the lipstick has gotten smudged, and Hubert can’t stop looking at Jeritza’s lips, with that red lipstick all smeared with the black of the one he’s wearing.

He’s sure there’s glitter all over him, but he couldn’t care less, not when Jeritza’s beginning to leave a trail of kisses on his jaw, and then on his neck.

\- Shouldn’t we talk about it? -.

Jeritza stops, and Hubert regrets asking immediately. The atmosphere gets cold, but luckily it lasts only for a moment.

\- Later -.

_Later_. That sounds so vague, but Hubert can’t exactly complain when Jeritza goes back to where he was left licking and biting at his skin. Later sounds like a perfectly reasonable time, thinking about it; more than reasonable. Yes, definitely reasonable.

He’ll have to apologize to Edelgard for the mess they’re about to make, but even now he knows he won’t regret it not even one bit. They have waited way too long for this and no, they both have no intentions of stopping now, even at the cost of being permanently banned from that theatre.

As Jeritza takes him in his arms and moves him – he’s so strong – on the desk, right against the huge mirror, Hubert can’t really bring himself to care about anything else that isn’t Jeritza’s warmly pressed against him.

He told Edelgard that they were going to get back to her shortly.

Eheh, looks like that’s not actually true.


End file.
